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RIANT STUDIO 
90 Rogers Avenue 

BROOKLYN-NEW YORK 






Copyright 1 9 1 1^ 

BY 

WALTER SMITH GRIFFITH 



Published May, 19 



.r-t 



uui. 17 1918 

©CI.A497794 
In r ( 



lEtiguet 

CURTAIN CALLS 

Curtain-calls should never be answered in 
the midst of a seting, but be modestly 
acknowledged in front of the drop. 

PREPARATION 

Preparation is the foundation stone of suc- 
cess. Be very thoro, even to the most minor 
detail. 

ANIMATION 

Animation is everything while before an 
audience. Be doing something. 

DELIBERATION 

Deliberation — Be very deliberate in master- 
ing dialog and action. The necessary force 
wil come with experience. 

NATURALNESS 

Naturalness — Above all things be natural. 
Affectation is a crime against Nature. 



1 






The jTvave, the gay and the foolish 

tiiid their place where the 

sock: and buskin reign 




On with the giddy whirl 

And bussed be she 

Who first cries, ''Hold, enough," 

I've stubd my tootsie-wootsies." 



FOREWORD 

My intention in writing these 
sketches, recitations, monologs, 
etc., was to place in the hands of 
public entertainers a useful collec- 
tion in hand}^ book size for use on 
any occasion, hoping that the}^ wil 
never be found lacking in meeting 
every emergency, 

I hav striven to make them as 
diverse as possible and to meet ex- 
tremes of opinion ; to be catchy ; 
devoid of suggestiveness, 3^et not 
prude, and to teach moralit}^ with- 
out invading the domain of the 
pulpit. 

Yours for public approval, 

Walter Smith Griffith. 



WHY YOU 



e a 



ll. 




H, for a pen of fire, that 
these sayings might 
be seared upon the 
minds of the driven 
multitude ! 

Go to now, ye rich men, weep 
and howl for your miseries that 
shal come upon you. (2) Your 
riches are corrupted and your garments are moth eaten, 
-s- * * ^4) Behold, the hire of the laborers who ha v 
reaped down your fields, which is of you kept back by 
fraud, crieth : and the cries of them which hav reaped 
are entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabbath.— St 
James 5 : 1, 2, 4, 

Why are so many conscientious 
men and women giving their time 
and money to further the spread of 
the Socialist propaganda ? 

That is the question that is agi- 
tating the governments of the civil- 
ized world. 



The leaders of the Christian church andl 
state lower on Socialistic pretension. 

The idea of the proletariat daring to ques- 
titon the doings of their betters ! 

Preposterous ! 

I cannot understand (from my viewpoint)' 
how any sane person, even in fair circum- 
stances, can deny the ethereal standpoint of 
Socialism. 

I know that men and women drawing large 
dividends from the sweat of the workers' ex- 
haustion dont want it. 

I can understand their antagonism. 

But how the workers (living from hand to- 
mouth, grinding out their vitality) can con- 
scientiously uphold by speech and action the 
damnable system in vogue today, to their 
own abasement, is (to me) a wonderful ex- 
hibition of crass stupidity. 

Who is to blame? 

Nothing is plainer — the worker. 

With the power in his hands he allows 
the soothsayers to take advantage of every 
pain, ache or fad to gril his money or in- 
fluence to their enhancement. 

Just pause and look at these fakers. 

Followers of Christ — Christians ! 

How could anyone be so dense as to be 
thus taken in? 

10 



Christ had not the place to lay his hea^. 

These grinders of the workers' brawn are 
pot-bellied and rolling in grease. They own 
vast possessions. 

The worker is loaded down with grievous 
'burdens that the few may airily take their 
dainty ways and sniff with disgust at the 
'Sweat of honest toil. 

Religion is sacrifice. The robe of purple 
and the rich foods are not extold in the book 
'they pretend to take for their guidance. 

It condemns every one of their doings, de- 
nouncing lip service without action in the 
most scathing manner. 

Sympathy is cheap. It costs money for 
creature comforts. 

Go ask them for even enough to alleviate 
your pressing needs. 

You get it — ^^in the neck. 

That's where one that wil not fight them 
deserves to get it. 

The young ruler asked Christ what he 
should do to be saved. 

The only part of the advice he refused to 
follow was **Sel all thou hast and giv to the 
poor." 

The wealthiest and most respected church 



11 



m N'ew York City is Old Trinity. Does it 
sel all it has to giv to the poor? 

Ask some of the people who hav found 
themselves on the street because of inability 
to pay for the shelter of some of its rotten* 
tenements. 

A house of God? 

No wonder men lose faith in the church 
and religion when they see such hypocrisy. 

That religion? 

Nonsense. 

Do you believe in the Bible? 

If so, why not place it above the laws of 
the crooks who run your affairs at times? 

I dont care where they house — city hall, 
justices' courts, churches or convents — they 
grab the result of your brawn and throw 
you into purgatory here and pretend ability 
to finish up the job hereafter. 

And they hav the immaculate gall to as- 
sure you that they are true sky pilots — the 
chosen of God ! 

The only astonishing thing about it is that 
otherwise sane people allow themselves to be 
bamboozled by such rot. 

Under the present system the majority of 

12 



the people fear to criticise their rulers. Con- 
tempt of power is looked upon as treason. 
All the ambitious ones are reaching for the 
mundane honors and wish to maintain the 
statu quo. 

No wonder those who reach for the means 
to possess the fleshpots whether others hav 
even means to keep body and soul together 
or not hate Socialism — it would cut off their 
chances to gouge and pile up the graft. 

They point with pride to one or two, or, 
say, a dozen, grafters wearing prison uni- 
forms. 

How many more jails do you suppose we 
would hav to build if every grafter was sent 
where he belonged? 

Here is a plain example: 

A man drove a car. Then he became a 
bartender. 

Then he contracted. 

Later the treasure of a powerful political 
organization — stil holding the strings of the 
contract graft. 

With no visible means of support he be- 
comes a millionaire. 

When everyone awakes to the infamy his 
retirement is demanded. 

*T'l stay here untitl I die," is his answer. 



13 



Invested rottenness triumphant. 

Are we going to stand for that sort of 
thing? 

Such assumption would be all right — if the 
electric chair could be called into the argu- 
ment within a month. 

Our form of government leads to positions 
procured and heM by preferment. 

Can you show me a posititon so held that 
any self-respecting mortal cares to hold? 

The same thing is becoming more and 
more common as years go on in private life. 

More and more posittions are being gov- 
erned by the cliques. 

There is one thing all want to remember: 
If you allow evils to exist you are to blame. 

If the pot-bellied hogs can get you to pour 
swil (you can call it money if you wish) into 
their troughs, why should they go out and 
earn honest livings? 

Why, they would be as crazy as the 
workers who uphold the present damnable 
system, which allows humans to walk on 
their shoe uppers and surfeit their stomachs 
with a lack of wholesome food. 

Why was a railroad owner allowed to 

14 



•I 



acknowledge himself a thief and then treated 
Vv^ith every courtesy and buried with honors? 

He was a multimillionaire. 

Why was a man sent to rot in a vile prison 
for years because he stole a loaf of bread to 
appease his hunger? 

He was a pauper, 

A poor man, his wife and family are re- 
fused admission to this country. 

An imitation of a man who became an 
alien for his country's good is received here 
with high honors. He flaunts his il-gotten 
gains in the faces of the plundered and they 
bow down and adore the golden rod. 

Look at the established church — the beau- 
tiful vestments and gowns, the careful groom- 
ing of even a semblance to harshness in their 
smooth deference to power. 

Any individual who pours his hard-earned 
cash into its treadmil deserves all the pun- 
ishments they can mete out. 

They pick to pieces the poor devil who 
falls outside the walls, but one can go the 
limit inside. 

Now, you and I must talk, talk and talk of 

15 



the utter lack of virtue in our way of living. 
It may influence others. Therefore it is 
good. 

WE WANT TO INFLUENCE OTHERS. 

But we must allso strike. 
That's the word. 

STRIKE! ! ! 

With the ballot in his possession the 
worker can be supreme. 

The priest, rabbi, minister, judge, lawyer, 
police officer — all the same — they eat up what 
you earn and giv you 

Hot Air! 

The public position has several great ad- 
vantages over the private corporation service 
— one is they giv you steady employment at 
a fair wage and do not drive one to the limit 
of endurance. 

Another is that you are not treated as dead 
wood as soon as you fail to return the high 
rate of interest demanded for the monetary 
pittance thrown to you by the private con- 
cern. 

You know what becomes of dead wood. 

It isnt even fit to burn. 



16 




And if you find yourself witTiout the means 
«of providing for your daily needs the grim 
reality stares you in the face — starve or beg. 

No self-respecting person cares to beg, 
therefore instances of starvation are not rare. 

And we stand for all this. 
Where is our backbone? 

I cannot understand how anyone can doubt 
the existence of a hereafter. 

Even if you do not believe in the teach- 
ings of the Bible, commonsense would clearly 
reveal that truism : 

We need a hereafter. 

If for nothing else, as a matter of justice. 

How else wil the twisters of honors re- 
ceive their just deserts and land where the.v 
belong — 

In hel ! 

These self-styled elect of God hav man- 
aged to so cleverly fit costs into income that 
you are lucky to be treated by the final three 
extortioners — the doctor, priest and under- 
taker — with even ordinary deference. 

I feel more sympathy for the undertaker 
than most people — he is lucky to get any- 

17 



thing after the other two hav gone thru, 
their little act. 

We are funy people, surely: When we 
feel as tho our end is near we become fild 
with alarms. The doctor is hastily sum- 
moned. After he has given up the priest is 
brought in to jolly us along. Then, if we go^ 
Mr. Undertaker jumps in and grabs what he 
can of the balance. 



self-prese:rvation 

"Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty." 

The vast destruction of life and property by 
hosts in a to-the-death grapple on the Euro- 
pean continent alarmed Americans. 

Germany was the only country which never 
relaxed in her preparation for the struggle 
which she surely divined, and was far in ad- 
vance of her opponents in the possession of 
war knowledge. She unmasked cannon of 
unheard of destructiveness and massed troops 
with incredible swiftness. She proved that so- 
called impregnable posititons were simiply a 
battering proposititon. In submarine warfare 
she taught the world a startling lesson. SHE 
WAS PREPARED. 

We should be prepared to repel IN- 
VASION. 

18 



Waste no time on mournful lays. 
God hath givn us the days 
That we may improve each thought 
He hath sent and we hav wrought 

Onward go with cheerful trust. 
Only shirkers die from rust, 
Keep the tally on your deeds, 
Ever ripe for mortal needs. 

If you make your minutes count, 
Then you'l find that you wil mount 
Just as high as you deserve 
In accord with whom you serve. 

God and mammon cant be there 
Helping you to climb the stair — 
Choose, and choose the sturdy rights 
That your armor may be bright. 

Strive and win the golden crown 
Duty givs for soul renown — 
Rare contentment all the time, 
Ending in a. rest sublime. 

19 



COURTLY DAYS 

In vision grand my soul to days of old 
Harked back — to castled walls and gallant 

knights 
In tournaments where flashing steel drew 

sparks 
From mailed coats, and lance and mace both 

played 
Their parts in whirlwind joust and savage 

blows 
When foemen met upon the battlefield, 
While maidens fair, with shy, enraptured 

looks. 
Each hoped her own dear gallant knight would 

win. 

Methought I woke within a castle grand, 
Barbaric splendor towering o'er my head 
In castled walls with lofty arched roof. 
While round upon the cold gray walls there 

hung 
The implements of war and chase and song; 
Then close unto my side a being sprung 
To mortal shape and told of glories past: 

"Yon dusty harp, hung high in silent state. 
Whose misereres in vaulted chambers rang 



20 



Long years agone beneath the witching spel 
Of some inspired bard or dainty maid, 
Now lives, its wierd-like notes in silence stild, 
A relic of the glorious halcyon days 
When men were warriors brave and rarely 

keen 
To guard their honor and their courtly dames 
Unto the breaking e'en of ties of blood — 
Yea, e'en their king dared not intrude upon 
Their treasured rights, but held, in fearsome 

awe. 
The beetling frown upon their feudal brows — 
And strewed their paths with rudely torn and 

slain 
When fearlessly their legions cleft the foe 
To sate their wrath for real or fancied woe. 

That rusty sword that hangs with drooping 

mien 
Few mortal souls when men were truly men 
Could swing in mighty lightning-like death 

strokes 
In combat grim where lusty brawny men 
With mad, berserkered rage of frenzied might 
Spread death afar thru alien lands remote; 
Aye, lad, but few could heft that smiting blade 
With aut of awe; naut but a giant he 
Who'd reck with it in his dread frenzy when 



21 



Its mighty weight must yield at wil to play 
Of muscled thews and hack a grewsDme path 
For bold tho not so mighty followers ; 
Yea, then it seemed, amid the fearsome rush 
Of warriors keen to sate their stored-up wrath, 
As tho yon sword gave forth a shriling note 
While deeply drinking life's dread ebbing 

blood, 
And e'en each flashing gleam were as a glance 
Of scorn and pride because the mighty shrank 
Aghast before the wreaking awe agleam 
In its dread face; and yea, the days of men 
Were then, for he who'd stand and face the foe 
Must be of mighty girth and sterling worth. 
For life and limb depended on the skil 
Of eye and arm and foot to trick the foe 
Into a foolish thrust or blow that bared 
A vital spot to crushing blow of mace. 
Or thrust of sword to draw the rushing flood 
Which dyed full many a well-contested field. 

Or wouldst thou hear the ghosts of maidens' 

sighs, 
Then run at wil thy hand upon the strings 
Of yonder lute and wake the dulcet tones 
Asleep in its sweet slumb'ring mellow strings ; 
Aye, lad, 'twil cause the weeping founts to 

pour 



22 



i 



Their floods adown thy youthful beardless face 
At countless tales that sweet companion meet 
Of gentles of the weaker fairer six 
Can swift recount into thy wond'ring ear, 
And many a sprightly tale you'l hear of — but 
Avaunt, my tale must cease" — and he was 

gone, 
The first faint ray of dawn had pierced the 

gloom, 
And I — awake within my attic room. 

MOTHER LOVE 

I am the mother of a baby boy, 
And, oh, indeed, my heart is fild with joy 
As to my breast I hug his being sweet 
And know the meaning of a love complete ; 
What then care I for suffragetic schemes. 
Or battle where fierce women's anguished 
screams 

Arouse derisive comment. 

I pray, "great God, guard thou my darling's 

health 
From day to day," that he may know the 

wealth 
Of sturdy brawn, and fondly dream I, too, 
That he, with matchless pluck, and valor true, 
Wil stamp upon the scroll of fame his name 
In blazoned letters bright with soaring fame 
Of mighty deeds and virtue. 
23 



The Deep Earth Delver 

Down in the mine where the darkness blinds. 

And the toil of slaves degrades, 

Tho his lamplight's ray scarcely shows his 

path, 
The miner toils away, 

And the worker groans as his pick digs deep, 
Stil he feels the love above 
Keeps bright e'en the dark thru his children's 

hearts 
As he works with his sturdy brawn. 

Chorus. 

With swinging pick 

He attacks his task 

That his wife and his children may 

Reap a fruitful store 

With their future more. 
In the joys of Freedom's land, 
In the joys of Freedom's land. 



24 



Down in the mine where the firedamp lurks, 

Where grim Death awaits the slaves 

Of the lamp and pick and explosion quick, 

The miner toils away, 

But his heart is light as the coal he breaks, 

For he knows that far above 

The keen, rare delight of his youngsters' play 

Rests on him and the pay he earns. 

Chorus : 



WISDOM 

This world a stage is said to be — 
And warned are we to ever flee 

The smooth and oily tongued host 
Who look for you when walks the 
ghost. 
But just jot down this simple wail. 
Paste in your hat this wholesome tale-— 
Who never did a foolish thing 
Wil never know the bitter sting 
Of waking to the mournful woe 
That friend has turned into a foe — 

'Tis then rare wisdom takes the 

throne 
Right up in one's poor foolish dome. 



25 



Nature's Calf 

From Nature's grandly glorious woods, 
The croak of frog and cricket's shril 
Come floating on the wings of night 
To bear to man their message trite. 

Oh, man, in all your stony might. 
In iron, brass and trinkets bright. 
Just hie away to Nature's home, 
And from her haunts you'l never roam. 

Now Nature calls to you in tones 
It were but wise for you to heed. 
For Death sets swift the grinding pace 
That piles in heaps the city's race. 

What profiteth the money earned, 
Or cuning tricks so quickly turned? 
With every vitiated breath 
The city reaps its toll of death. 

Three score and ten is rarely reached 
By those who heed the whistle's screech, 
For throbing life is stifled where 
The whirling looms reflect Death's glare. 



26 



But stil doth man endure tlie gloom 
Unto the city's awful doom, 
And watch his wife and children fade 
Into the churchyard's frightful shade. 

What charm doth hold the multitude 
Where men are mean and rough and rude? 
The charm of gold and easy way^, 
E'en tho it means but shortened days. 



COMRADES 



Alltho the trend of life hath burst apart 
The sinews of our brawny toil, 

Yet, stil, the camaraderie of heart 
We once hav felt can never soil. 



Unwelcome Visitors 

When I was just, oh, wel, ahem ! 
And you were there in all your charm, 
You'd say to me, "How did you sleep?" 
And I, with baneful glare, and stern 
At thought of all those weary hours 
Achasing that dread midnight host, 
Would force a smile and grimly state, 
"I hardly slept a wink." 



27 



Several summers ago I sojourned daown to^ 
a village on the north shore of Long Island.. 
The precocity of the younger element there 
amazed me. 

Swatches — 30, 

At our drug store we hav some of the miost 
attractive scenarios put over every day that 
can be imagined. 

The other day a sweet young thing, pov/- 
dered and puffed, skirts just the right 
hight 

Oh, yes, just a flash of white stockings, you 
know; likewise, a discreet display of the com- 
missary department; and she had on one of 
those angle hats 

Dont know what they are? Why, they turn 
one end up — the other down, and the fair 
one peeks around it, as it were. 

And she walked right up to the counter — 
smile and all. 

Said she: "Please giv me a nipple for a 
baby." 

Now, I've been pondering ever since as to 
whether she was afraid I would think it was 
for her grandfather. 



28 



And if you perform your part wel you may 
hav an epitaph on your tombstone similar to 
that of the faithful piano tuner — 

Here lies the body of a wight, 
In life he tuned up strings, 

He now tunes harps — and tunes them 
wel — 
And moves on wings; and sings. 



I met a friend the other day and he said : 
"Grif., I see you are quite an artist, author, 
singer, orator, etc." 

'*Oh, yes," said I, "and when it comes to 
instrumental music — m-m-m-m — t here Fm 
strong. You ought to hear me play the talk- 
ing machine." 



The Fighting Chance 

He lies who says I knock but once 
Upon the door of e'en a dunce. 
From birth to death I never cease 
To seek for each a rare release 
From poverty. 
(Signed) Opportunity. 



29 



THE TITANIC 

"Ahead! Ahead!" the captain shrieks, 
"Crowd on each boiler til she leaks;" 
The curse of speed thus holds its sway 
From break of dawn til close of day, 
And thru the fearsome foggy night 
Crowd on, crowd on each ounce of steam 
Until the boat is one vast scream 
Of dare and drive to reach the port. 

Is he, the captain, brave and true, 
To blame for all this helish stew? 
Ah, no ! The predatory rich 
Thus drive mankind into the ditch 
They've dug to glut their sordid aims 
And smirch brave men with their foul fames ; 
"Crowd on ! Crowd on \" with helish glee 
They shriek, while they quail back from 
Death. 



To Attain the Millenium 

*Tis wel for us to keep in mind 
That life is but a narrow span 
From thrilling birth to evening 
dusk. 
And cheerful be to all, and kind, 
And graciousness itself. 



30 



Too much applause. 

Heigh, fellows, there's other entertainers 
here more clever than I; hav a heart. Come 
on, Sally. 



To Elsie : 



Giv me the girl of long ago, 
The girl whose presence caused a glow 
To hover round the humblest hearth 
All o'er this broad and restless earth. 

The suifragets and tailormades 
I'd gladly thrust into the shades, 
And trust the most ideal theme 
To her who makes the home supreme. 



PATRIOTIC 

Swatches— 60, 62-64, 66-68, 71, 84, 138, 147, 
148. 

Be Prepared 

Swatches — 54. 



31 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN 

The Bugle Call— 9. ■ 

THE VETERANS 

As I stood viewing the parade on Mem- 
orial Day several years ago, in Brooklyn, my 
heart was exultant with pride because of the 
grand martial appearance of our citizen sol- 
diers. On and on the line strung out until — 

What is this coming? 

Why, it is the old soldiers ! The grand old 
men who made this day possible ! 

What are they doing in the rear? 

They were not in the rear when they were 
sorely needed. 

I turned away with a feeling of savage 
indignation that some of the men in power 
in our beloved country could so far forget 
the honor due to the preservers of our mighty 
land. 

I hav never voluntarliy viewed a Memorial 
Day parade in New York City since. 

MEMORIAL DAY 

The Bugle Call— 30. 



32 



Train the Young 

Every man true to his God and nati^ e land 
lealizes that the time must come when he 
wil pay the debt to Nature and lay down his 
work, so he aims with every faculty to 
help the rising generation to prepare so that 
as he and his companions drop from the 
ranks — incapacitated or gone over the dark 
river — young, virile souls shal leap into their 
places, grasp their weapons and carry on the 
fight with even greater success than their fore- 
bears. 

The Young Should Be Studious 

The three great ideals that all true men 
set up as their guiding stars to an elevating 
earthly existence are God, their native land 
and their parents — 

A worshipful reverence for our Divine 
Father, who so bountifully showers us with 
blessings; loyalty and patriotism for the land 
of our nativity and a respectful obedience to 
our parents in our youth and love for and 
protection of them in their age. 

No matter what we may sacrifice in the 
way of health and wealth for noble purposes, 
let us remember that we but emulate the 



33 



example of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ» 
who bore our sins and gave up His life that 
we might not perish. 

The younger generation should constantly 
attend the gatherings of patriotic societies 
that the terrible sufferings and sacrifices of 
their sires may not hav been in vain. 

To their minds constantly would I bring 
refreshing attention that the great liberties 
we enjoy were earned by the blood and 
anguish of their fathers. 

Let us keep the memories of devotiton bur- 
nished so as to attract all true men to their 
purity of purpose. 

My Land of Dazzling Glory 

The Bugle Call— 4. 

OUR HEROES 

Prior to the advent on the battlefields of 
the Boys of '61, this country was an anomaly 
—Slavery hiding its hideous face behind the 
inspired countenance of Freedom. 

Thru their titanic efforts, only was our 
present consistent attitude toward the lowly 
members of the human family achieved. 



34 



Again, in 1898, that notorious oppressor of 
the humble, proud Spain, by her dastardly 
conduct toward the Cubans, the assassination 
of our sailors and marines, and the destruction 
of our great battleship Maine, forced us to 
mobilize our army and navy and teach her a 
wel-deserved lesson. 

Stil, not all is attained. 

There is the question of Industrial Slavery 
to be answered. 

I fear me another resort to the sword is 
imminent. 

Every step in advance seems to demand its 
fearful toll of blood. 

May we of today meet our duty as fear- 
lessly as did the brave men of 1861-1865 and 
the conquerors of the Spanish oppressors. 

Tonight, with your kind attention, I wil 
state the reason for the fiery zeal and con- 
certed rush of the patriots of 1861-1865 when 
our brothers of the southland reached forth 
vandal hands to tear down that beautiful 
emblem and trample it under their dirty feet. 

SUMTER 

The Bugle Call— 13. 



35 



The great pivotal conflict of the Civil War 
as the Battle of Gettysburg. 



vi^as 



Borne to us on the wrings of language are 
the stories of many conflicts. Everyone, with 
rare exception, reveals heroic deeds — some 
man, company or vessel, division or squadron, 
army or fleet carried out wel-matured plans 
with such extraordinary zeal and reckless dar- 
ing as to arouse the admiration of the wonder- 
ing onlookers. 

The first day's fighting at Gettysburg re- 
vealed a wing of the Federal Army battling 
all day against tremendous ods under a with- 
ering crossfire from the Confederate cannon 
posted on the surrounding heights. 

The Storm Breaks 

The Bugle Call— 24. 

From the holocaust of the second day's 
battle, sorely wounded, was borne the hero of 
Gettysburg — General Winfield Scott Han- 
cock. 



36 



Hancock's Heroism 

The Bugle Call— 27. 



The desperate valor of the charge of 
Pickett's Brigade across the Wheat Field up to 
the mouths of the Federal cannon the after- 
noon of the third day at Gettysburg made the 
world-famed charge at Balaklava, October 25, 
1854, sink into mere insignificance — and de- 
served a better cause. 

Nothing but the exalted courage of the sol- 
diers in blue could have withstood such an 
assault. 

The terror that the whirlwind charge of 

thousands of men, flushed with victories, is 

calculated to inspire cannot be appreciated 
by civilians. 

The great achievements of Napoleon Bona- 
parte were due more to the superb confidence 
of his troops in themselves than to the ad- 
vantages gained by his marvelous military 
genius. 



37 



Pickett's Charge 

The Bugle Call— 28. 



Other banners hav inspired men to supreme 
effort, but the Heaven-born Banner of Free- 
dom has produced that exalted courage that 
makes posterity gasp with amazement. 



THE MILITIA 

We, freeborn citizens of this great American 
Republic, are justly proud of our citizen sol- 
diers, because that certain amount of war- 
like education is confered necessary to safe- 
guard our beloved land, coupled with the least 
quantity of discipline to teach the strict 
obedience required for successful army man- 
euvers. 

I do not wish to take away even the 
smallest jot from the glories of our standing 
army. I only want to emphasize the fact that 
our institutions and ideas require its constric- 



38 



tion to the most minute point commensurate 
with safety. 

The family is the unit of every nation, great 
or small. 

Soldiers of a standing army, moved here 
and there at the dictate of their head, find it 
inconvenient to attend to the duties of a 
grovi^ing family. The assumption of family 
obligations is therefore deprecated in the case 
of the private and more or less frow^ned upon 
in the lower grades of the commissioned force. 

A large standing army becomes more or 
less imbued with an esprit de corps foreign to 
our ideas of government and more in keeping 
with hereditary sovereignty. 

To place waves of steel at the beck and call 
of one man is to invite disaster. 

The only blotch on the escutcheon of the 
regular army and navy is the snobbishness 
of some of the officers whose grandfathers 
came to this country in the steerage. It has 
one good effect, tho — it shows that imperial- 
ism rides hand in hand with militarism. 

The specious plea of non-preparedness is 
refuted by the avidity with which even the 
children grab the rifle and sword. 

The lust of battle is hereditary. 

The only necessity of this great and grow- 



39 



ing country is conservatism — restriction of 
taxation in every form. A large army is an 
incubus upon the thrift of any people. Tax- 
ation is fostered by a razheem of empty tinsel 
and proud chests — with very little under them 
but pride of place, empty vauntings and blows 
for trivial honors. 



Laugh and the world laughs with you. 
Snore and you sleep alone. 

When you hav hogs around you must ex- 
pect to be tormented with pigs' vermin and 
diseases. 

The law declares it criminal to suppress 
the race. Why not make the most important 
of all laws operative? 

George — How many shirts can you get out 
of a yard? 

Chester — Depends on the yard you get into. 

He was anxious to make an impression. 
She was a dear little girlie. 

"Some friends say I am slow," he confided, 
*'but, you know, it takes inspiration to make 
a nimble tongue." 

Wasnt he just lovely? 



40 



CASUS BELLI 

DRAMATIS PERSONA 

Paulina Broun (American lady, about 21), 
dressed in height of fashion; very recherche. 

Mrs. John Broun (Cora, her mother) 
widow; young looking enough to be her 
daughter's sister; very uptodate. 

Percival Graham, Chester Caslin (gentle- 
men friends), young, rich and handsome beau 
brummels. 

SCENE I. 

(Parlor of Broun home, Herkimer street, 
Brooklyn, 8 P. M. Mrs. Broun and Paulina 
entertaining Percival and Chester.) 

Cora (Mrs. Broun) — Oh, Percival, hav you 
been to the Gypsy Wing Cabaret? They say 
it is just swel. 

Percival — Oh, I should guess ! Alltho I 
hav seen worse. 

Paulina — I'd just love to go. 

Chester — Fl take you, Paulina. 

Cora (sweetly) — And I suppose I can de- 
pend on you as an escort, Percival. 

Percival (in love with Paulina) — Er, oh, 
yas. 



41 



Chester — Now that is settled, suppose yotr 
sing that new mushy song, Chains of Roses,, 
for us, Cora. There wil be nothing doing: 
before 10 o'clock at the cabaret. 

Cora — Mushy ! The idea I Chains of Roses 
is just the sweetest song ever. Dont you* 
agree with me, Paulina? 

Paulina — Yes, indeed, dear^ it's the cutest 
love, 

Percival — 1 call it mash, Giv us the 
Gefulte Fish Rag, Cora. I'm tired of sa 
much lovey-dovey, 

Cora (going over to piano) — Love is all 
that is worth living for (kiling glance at 
Percival), 

Percival — Ugh ! 

Cora (gushingly) — What is more worthy 
of the tenderest care than a beautiful baby ! 

Percival (sarcasticaly) — Why, you said 
only the other day that squalling brats ought 
to hav a special pound prepared for them — 

Cora (breaking in with accompaniment — 
sings) — 



42 



Chains of Roses 

You hav bound my heart with chains of roses. 

Sweetheart with the stary eyes, 
And your fetters are rare links of sweetness. 

Leading upward to the skies; 
Fragrance fils my very being, darling, 

When our breaths, like clinging vines, 
With a thriling kiss find bliss seraphic, 

And your soul with mine entwines. 

Chorus, 

Chains of roses, chains of roses. 

Sweetheart with the soul divine^ 
Nestle close within my bosom, 

Dear, I know your soul is mine; 
Gaze into my eyes with fondness, 

Kiss me with a bliss sublime, 
Chains of roses, chains of roses, 

Fondle me, you angel mine. 



43 



Oh, you charmer with the chaining roses, 

How I long to hear the chimes 
Ringing out the blissful gladsome tidings 

That two souls that love entwines 
Hav, before God's sacred, holy altar, 

Been united for all time; 
Then thruout the years you'l stil be weaving 

Chains of roses, bliss sublime. 

Chorus : 

Percival (sarcasticaly) — Paulina, wil you 
kindly render the Gefulte Fish Rag and lift 
the gloom cloud? 

(Cora givs place to Paulina with great 
good humor and a dazzling smile to all. 
Paulina plays rag.) 

(Cora jumps up, yanks Chester from chair 
and they dance. Paulina bites lip and Per- 
cival scowls, fidgets and finaly jumps up and 
grabs Paulina from piano stool and they allso 
dance. Soon the rithm commences to lose 
force, they get out of step and stop.) 

Cora (somewhat pettishly) — I should think, 
Paulina, you might hav waited for a minute 
until Chester and I had our little dance out. 
Then I would hav played for you and Per- 
cival. Now you hav spoiled it for us all. 



44 



Paulina — There, there, Mother, dont get 

peevish. 

(Oppressive silence.) 

Chester (recovering) — Suppose we go now; 
we can walk and take in the sights. 

Paulina (eagerly) — Oh, yes, let's. 

Cora (dimpling) — That wil be lovely. 

(Exeunt, arm in arm, Chester- Paulina, Per- 
cival-Cora.) 

(Curtain.) 



SCENE II. 

(Sam.e seting; 4 a. m.) 

(Enter Cora and Paulina in evening dress.) 

Cora (throwing off cloak, sulkily) — That's 
allways the way. No wonder people dont 
want children any more. They are nothing 
nov/adays but an ungrateful bunch of brats. 

(Paulina throws off cloak. Both take seats 
facing). 



45 



Paulina (with a cold stare of disdain) — 
Mother, I declare your conduct was disgrace- 
ful. 

Cora (with a sniff) — Humph ! You are 
jealous of your old Chester. 

Paulina (snapishly) — Wei, I dont know 
as I am jealous of every man. You fol- 
lowed me around all night. Why dont you 
set your cap for one and hav done with it? 

Cora (with asperity) — You should treat 
your mother with more respect. No dutiful 
daughter would make such a remark to her 
mother. After all I hav gone thru to bring 
you up, too ! 

Paulina (flushing and darting fierce glance) 
— Dont throw that up to me. You're living 
on my money now. 

Cora (screaming) — And it ought to be 
mine. You poisoned your father's mind 
against me and he left me dependent upon 
you to spite me because he couldnt do with 
me as he wished. 

Paulina (furiously) — You lie! 

46 



(They both leap to their feet and grab 
each other, wrestling all over the stage, with 
little damage, however. Tiring, they separate 
and drop, gasping, into chairs.) 

Cora (chokingly) — Paulina, I should think 
you would have more dignity. 

Paulina — I inherit my dignity from you, 
mother, dear. 

(Curtain.) 



The Leap Year Qirl 

The Leap Year Girl, with wining smile, 
Is seeking to the men beguile, 
She wears her cutest Sunday gown 
And goes parading round the town. 
She doesnt care what name she takes. 
Its all the same, Green, Brown or Jakes, 
You neednt fear a sorry lurch. 
Just buy the ring and to the church. 



47 



Chorus r 

Oh, marry me, 
Oh, marry me, 
I'll be your little wifey dear, 
I'll fil your soul with gladsome cheer ; 
I am a clinging vine, 
You are my valentine, 
Oh, marry me. 
Oh, marry me. 



So, boys, beware the furbelows 

And other schemes that woman knows. 

Or fast she'l hav her net round you 

And drag you in the marriage stew, 

Not even in an aeroplane 

Can you escape the anguished pain 

That's caused by Cupid's hurtling dart 

Apiercing man's receptive heart. 



48 



CAVEAT EMPTOR 

DRAMATIS PERSONA 

John O'Donnal (an Irish Jew), instalment 
man; cruel gray eyes; cold and crafty. 

May Rafferty (his typewriter), typical 
tango and turkey-trot artiste, 

David Weimer (Hebrew), young sport, 
about 21 ; red headed. 

Henry Smath (Englishman), about 35. 

SCENE I. 

(Office of the Greater New York Jewelry 
Corporation [12x12], Montgomery street, 
Jersey City, 10 a. m., month of June, O'Don- 
nal at his desk, waiting the arrival of his 
assistant, nervously druming with his fin- 
gers.) 

(Enter May.) 

O'Donnal (sarcasticaly) — 1 thought -our 
business agreement stipulated from 9 a. m. to 
5 p. m., with an hour for lunch? 

May (pertly, removing hat and gloves) — 
But w^e forgot the clause relating to acci- 
dents. 

O'Donnal — Oh, yes, I see, Employers' Lia- 



49 



bility, but does that cover two hours or more 
for lunch? I suppose the next encroachment 
wil be a touch for more wages. 

May (sweetly)- — Oh, yes, how kind of you ? 
That is just what I was about to speak of. 
Everything is so high and (coming over and 
pating him on the cheek) one needs so many 
things to took nice. 

O'Donnal — Wei, see how cleverly you can 
handle the two prospects this afternoon and 
ri giv you a few extra thoughts. 

May (pertly) — Look out for the missis ! 

O'Donnal (glancing around apprehensively 
[May giggles], with a start) — Dont do that 
again. My nerves are not of the best lately. 

May — A martini when we lunch wil fix 
you up. 

O'Donnal — Oh, so we lunch together to- 
day, do we? 

May (airily) — Important conference. 

O'Donnal (mock gesture of despair) — And 
if she hears of it, where is my alibi? 

May — Dont fidget. I wont tel her. 

O'Donnal — But someone else may. 

May — Oh, no one wil know of it in that 
nice quiet hotel ; dont I allways treat you wel 
when you take me out? (Smiling tantaliz- 
ingly up into his face). 



'' u 



(O'Donnal grabs her and kisses her like 
a savage.) 

May (pushing him away and rearranging 
her hair) — Dont get mushy now. 

O'Donnal (pulling himself together with an 
effort, seats himself at his desk and waves 
May to her place) — Take this dictation, 
please, Miss Rafferty, ''J'^seph Manser 
(snarlingly). Sir:" 

May — You neednt tear my head off. 

O'Donnal (ugly look and impatient wave of 
hand) — "Your last invoice was exceedingly 
unsatisfactory. Some of the goods were re- 
turned as not up to guarantee, and Trahang 
offers me better terms." 

May — The idea ! Talking that way to that 
nice old Jew! Trahang! That little shrimp 
of a Frenchman ! 

O'Donnal — Miss Rafferty, you are engaged 
here to take dictation, not to make comments 
on my business associates, tho (sneeringly) 
I dont wonder you are sore on Trahang. 
Manser gave you a five-dollar gold piece for 
Christmas. I believe Trahang gave you a 
jolly. 

May (sulkily) — About all you'l get, too. 

O'Donnal (severely) — Go en with the let- 



51 



ter: "I must get the watches for at least $30. 
All our pawnbrokers wil giv on them is $20, 
and, if my customers go away from where 
our influence holds, they are lucky to get $10. 
I can't make enough at $40 to pay office ex- 
penses, etc., and stand for all my poor credits. 
Giv this matter your immediate attention, as 
it is imperative.'' 

May (to audience) — So you make $60 on a 
watch when you get all your contract calls 
for, and you kick on paying me $8 a week. 
We'l have to see about this ! 

(Curtain.) 

SCENE II 
(Same seting. Enter Smath.) 

Smath — So this is where th' bloomhink Hir- 
ish Jew 'angs hout. They hall seems to be 
hout. 

(Enter O'Donnal.) 

O'Donnal (effusively) — My dear Mr. Smath, 
how do you do? 

Smath (awkwardly) — Oh, fairly wel, sir ; 
'ow har you? 



52 



O'Donnal — Excellent, Mr. Smath ; excellent. 
I hope business is good. 

Smath (pained look) — Werry slow, sir; 
slow, hi givs you me woid, sir. 

(Enter May.) 

May (running up to Smath, effusively) — 
Why, sweetheart, how do you do? 

Smath (bubbling with pleasure) — Fine, 
missy, fine. I 'opes to see you wel. 

May — Why, I havnt seen you in a long 
time; where hav you been keeping yourself? 

O'Donnal — Yes, we would be pleased to 
hav you drop in any time., 

Smath — Thank you, sir ; hi happreciates 
your kindness. 

(Enter Weimer.) 

Weimer — Hello, May. Howdy, O'Donnal. 
Old boy, greet you. Hello, Smath, what blew 
you in? 

O'Donnal (slaping Weimer on back) — Just 
as chipper as ever, my dear young friend, 
ha ! ha ! ha ! 

Weimer — Bet your life. Wel, I havent time 
to jolly. Trot out the prop. 



53 



O'Donnal (suavely) — Allways full of busi- 
ness. (Seating himself at his desk, he brings 
out bottle of whisky, glasses and box of 
cigars.) First we wil enjoy a sociable drink- 
and a smoke. You surely hav time for that 
little pleasantry, gentlemen. 

Weimer (saucily) — Is the skirt in? I dont 
drink, but I wil this once if May wil indulge. 

May (graciously) — I never refuse, with gen- 
tlemen (kiling glance at both). 

(O'Donnal serves drinks and cigars.) 

Weimer (after siping a little whisky) — Say, 
O'Donnal, do you do anything in the salary 
loan line? 

O'Donnal (smoothly) — All in good time, 
my lightning arranger ; all in good time. I 
wil talk business in a minute. Dont spoil 
our pleasing sociability with commercial bick- 
erings. May, wil you giv us that little dance 
of yours, with the song accompaniment? (May 
moves to front.) [Confidentialy] Just look 
her over. I'm going to back her in vaude- 
ville. 

(May sings, dancing.) 

54 



Oh, Turkey Trot! 

Oh, there was a little coon, 
And he was a crazy loon, 

Oh, my! Oh, my! 

He would dance the turkey trot 
With his rare forget-me-not. 
So shy ! So shy ! 

Oh, turkey trot, oh, turkey trot, 

With that dark-blue forget-me-not, 

The leader of the Darktown Band 

Waved o n their dance with gladsome hand, 

And then each brother grabed his girl 

To join with them in dizzy whirl. 

(O'Donnal passes whiskey bottle to Smath.) 

Chorus : 

Oh, turkey trots, oh, turkey trots. 
With all those dark forget-me-nots, 
The throng urged on with gleesome shout 
And cheered along the merry rout, 
Oh, turkey trot, oh, turkey trot, 
Forget-me-not, forget-me-not. 

(O'Donnal passes whisky bottle to Smath.) 

55 



Now, this little crazy loon 
Of an outra dancing coon, 

Oh, my ! Oh, my ! 

Could as swiftly dart and prance 
In the merry tango dance, 

So spry ! So spry ! 

As with his baby on his wing 

He then would quickly dash and swing 

Thru all the merry tango swirl 

Along with his dear honey pearl, 

The crowd would greet with breezy yels 

The turkey trot and tango swels. 

Chorus: 

(O'Donnal passes whisky bottle to Smath.) 

(All applaud.) 

(For encore, May sings "Glide, Little 
Brown-Eyed Lovey" with Weimer, as they 
waltz.) 

(All applaud again.) 

O'Donnal — I'm jealous, Mr. Weimer, of 
your exquisite dancing. 

Weimer (pleased) — Oh, just a little clever. 
Nothing to brag of, old top. 

Smath (bibulously enthusiastic) — Hi soy, 
hold goil, blime me, you're a topper. 



56 



O'Donnal — Now, Miss Rafferty, tlia't yoo 
hav so exquisitely entertained our guests, 
would you kindly favor them with a display 
•of our goods? They may wish to purchase 
today something in our hne and we wil then 
be able at nightfall to look back and call it 
a day wel spent. 

May (teling glance) — I'm sure the gentle- 
men wil hav no cause for regret if they de- 
<cide on our swel jewelry. They are very 
artistic and the prices are right. 

(They all examine the watches. Then May 
draws Smath to her desk, while O'Donnal en- 
gages Weimer, each selecting the tray that 
interests the victim,) 

(Smath puts his arm around May and hugs 
her. She ogles him,) 

May (seductively) — Cant you make up your 
mind? 

Smath (drowsily) — Pick one hout for me> 
deary (leers), 

(May selects watch, disengages his arm, 
runs to showcase and brings chain; then puts 
them on him and secures a signed contract 
and $20. Then she whispers to him, he grins 
foolishly, she hands contract and money to 
O'Donnal, puts on her hat and they go out 
arm in arm.) 



57 



O'Donnal — Now, my dear Mr. Weimer, how- 
can you be so hard. That watch at $80 1 
Believe me, at such a price I must starve 
(mournful shake of the head). 

Weimer — Why, the last one I had (and this 
looks just like it) I paid your price, $100, and 
I was only able to get $20 on it when I had 
that sure thing- — 20 to 1 — air tight, copper- 
bottomed cinch. 

O'Donnal — That's the worst of those 
crooked pawnbrokers. They ruin our busi- 
ness. They giv you a false idea of true 
values. 

Weimer — Wei, I want some money. I've 
got a sure thing for otmorrow and no cash. 
How about a salary loanf 

O'Donnal — Wei, say we compromise on the 
price of the watch. How would, say, $90 be, 
alltho I wont have much profit at that price. 

Weimer (impatiently) — Oh, very wel. But 
you only get $5 down. 

O'Donnal (suavely) — That wil be all right 
(produces contract and makes it out). How 
about a chain, Mr. Weimer? 

Weimer (impatiently) — No ; giv me the con- 
tract (signs it and places w^atch in pocket). 
Now, how about a salary loan? 



58 



O'Donnal (holding out hand)— Five dol- 
lars, Mn Weimer, please, to bind the con- 
tract 

Weimer (angrily)— Here yon are (pulling 
K:)Ut single five dollar bil and throv^ing it at 
O'Donnal), Hovi^ about a salary loan? 

O'Donnal (reaching dov^n and picking up 
bil from floor, v^here it has fallen)— Easy, 
easy, my dear friend We'l come to that 
right away, 

Weimer (sulkily)— Wei, v^hat about it? 
O'Donnal — Hov^ much of a loan do you 
require, Mr, W^eimer? 

Weimer (of¥-handedly) — Oh, say $50. 
O'Donnal (carelessly)— All right. Please 
fil out this application blank (hands him a 
form as large as a deed, which Weimer fils 
out hurriedly, signs and hands to him,) Where 
wil you be tomorrow to receive this loan? 

Weimer (pettishly) — But I want it now. I 
must be at the track at 2 oclock to find out 
what the good thing is. 

O'Donnal (after deep thought)— It wil make 
me very short, but to accommodate you, Mr. 
Weimer, I wil make an exception (pulls out 
a roll that makes Weimer's eyes sparkle). 
Let me see, the bonus on $50 is $14. That 



59 



(eaves you $36. (Counts out $36 and hands, 
it to Weimer, who involuntarily grabs it.) 

Weimer (startled look)— What? Pay $14 
out of the fifty for the accommodation? I 
guess not. (Starts to hancj it back.) 

O'Donnal (smoothly) — All right. Here is 
3^our agreement. The money, please. 

Weimer (drawing back hurriedly) — Very 
wel. (Jumps to his feet.) So long (jams 
hat down on head and goes out). 

(Enter May, tripingly) — Oh, la, la, what 
chumps these men are. Ha ! Ha ! Ha ! 

O'Donnal— Ho! Ho! Ho! What did you 
do with Mr. Smath? 

May (sweetly) — He's down in the back 
room of the hotel, asleep. One more drink 
finished him. I told the proprietor to take 
care of him and his valuables. Oh, he's all 
right, except for what struck him. 

(O'Donnal and May waltz.) 
(Curtain.) 



Oh, dear, I feel so unnecessary. 

Some people grow old gracefully, others 
disgracefully. 



60 



Beware of fhe maltese cat.. She may belong 
to the church. 

The outra styles that women encourage are 
a strong argument against the granting of the 
franchise. 



I 



My Heart Is Yearning 

For You, Muriel 

I yearn, sweetheart, for you at dawn, 
Without you, dear, Fm most forlorn, 
Muriel, Muriel, my heart's desire, 
Loveliest of girlies, my soul's afire, 
To kiss and caress you, my love, 
To hold close to my breast, dear dove. 
You Heaven's sweet, my pretty pearl, 
My one and only dimpling girL 

Chorus: 

Muriel, my heart is sad, 
Come to me and make me glad, 
I'm so lonesome when you're away, 
Thruout the night, the livelong day. 

My heart is yearning for you, Muriel, 
My soul is pining for yours, Muriel. 



61 



f fong, dear heart, for your sweet face 
To grace my home, our children's place^ 
Muriel, Muriel, my heart's desire;. 
Loveliest of girlies, my soul's afire, 
I want you alwaj in my muse. 
You passion sweet, my soul's enthuse. 

Chorus : 



fluman hogs are not born, they are made 
l)y other people, 

Dont trust the failure who sits down and 
bemoans his fate. 

Republics are a success, but their forms 
of government are antiquated. They, if any, 
should be uptodate. 

The hypocrisy of preaching peace while 
taxing the people for armament is evident to 
anyone who can see. 

Remember, when you are striving to keep 
down a genius, that the very people you are 
pleasing by your conduct wil damn you to 
all posterity. 



62 



You can''t reform people with tlie rope an^ 
(electric chair. 

Mankind is heir to many ils, else the drug 
business wouldnt be so profitable, 

"Giv a dog a bad nam« and you might as 
wel kil him," Axiom, dont be a dog. 

Could you believe that a dentist would go 
to the limit of pretending to a conscience? 
I hav met the rarity. It cost me over one 
hundred dollars and several sound teeth. 

Father — My son, be a good, truthful boy 
and Santa Claus wil bring you lots of nice 
things. 

Son — Is there a real Santa Claus, papa. 

Father — Sure, 

Pompous Father (to mother's pet) — You 
tender chickens of today make me sick. 1 
used to do all the chores on the farm when 
I was your age, and I could do them now. 

Mollycoddle — You may hav been all there 
when a boy, father, but I notice that you like 
your squirrel-lined gloves now. 



63 



APT REMARKS 

Amateur entertainments are very 
often spoiled because they travel bj 
the D,, L, & W, route — Delay, Lin- 
ger and Wait. 

Entertainers are pleased when 
you appreciate their efforts, there- 
fore applaud as much as yoii wish 
(within reason) and then STOP. 

Some entertainers (and audi- 
ences) dont know when to stop. 
Moral : In red. Nothin' doin'. 

Too much sweets are sickening. 
Are you listening ? 

With your kind attention, I wil 
recite for 3^ou a beautiful poem. 
You wil instantly perceive the rea- 
son for its beaut3^ 

Wisdom— Page 25. 

In keeping with these sentiments 
the Yankee Quartet wil harmonize 
in The Wise Old Owl. 

64 



f 



If Rachel Had Only Been Born a Boy ! 

Dramatis persona 

Isadore Cohen (German-Jew) rich second- 
hand clothier. 

Mrs. Cohen (Sarah), his wife. 
Rachel, their daughter (only child). 
Eugene Dwyer (Irish- American), artist. 

SCENE I 

(Parlor of Cohen domicile, Harlem, 8 p. m.; 
Mrs. Cohen in rocking-chair, kniting socks; 
isadore walking up and down with hands 
clasped behind back; Rachel seated on piano 
stool, by piano, facing them.) 

Rachel — Papa, why can't I marry Gene? He 
makes good money; he's handsome and so 
romantic. Just think! Your daughter the wife 
of an artist ! 

Isadore— Vhy? Vhy? I toldt you vhy ! Vhy 
aindt he so obstinate? Shust shange his names 
to Cohen and eferyting vas as merry as snow- 
balls ! Vhy, if King Solomon was aUfe now 

65 



he'd shange his names to Cohen ! He was a 
vise mans. Dwyer ! Dwyer! Who efer heardt 
uf dem Irisher as compared mit the original 
names uf Cohen? 

Rachel — But, papa — 

Isadore — Papa ! Papa ! Vhy dond you say 
fader. Id voud show more respecd for your 
fader. 

Sarah — Vhy dond your mans be more as 
reasonable as your fader, Rachel ? Vhy, loogk 
ad how I shanged my names to Cohen ! My 
beeples ver gread beeples — the Isaacsteins. I 
vas glad to shange my names to Cohen. 

Isadore (throwing up his hands and wailing) 

— Great Fader Abraham, vhy wasn't my Rachel 
borned a boy? Must the only original Cohen 
be the last of his race? 

Rachel (appealingly) — What's in a name, 
father? 

Isadore- — A names ! A names ! Cohen a 
names ! Cohen vas a race — a gread beeples ! 
Vhen das Irisher ver vearing a var club and 
sunburns my beeples ver clothed in silks and 
satins and ruling der nations. 

Sarah — Vhy dond you marry Jakey Cohen, 
Rachel? He vouldn't haf to shange his names, 
and he's rich. 



66 



Rachel (excitedly) — That old frump? He's 
sixty. Oh, you Reno ! 

Isadore — Jah ! Jakey vould be shust the 
poy. 

Rachel (turning hurriedly to piano) — Have 
you heard the latest, father? 

Isadore — What? The Yiddisher napkin? 

Rachel — Yiddisher Rag, you mean, father. 

Isadore (meekly) — You saidt it vasn't polite 
to say rag, Rachel. 

Rachel — Wei, this is different (plays lively 
ragtime). 

(Isadore grabs his wife out of her chair and 
they do a grotesque dance, Sarah kniting all 
the time.) 

Music : 



(Curtain.) 



67 



SCENE II 

(Same room; following night. Rachel at 
piano playing and singing "Glide, Little Brown- 
Eyed Lovey !" Bel rings.) 

Rachel (rising quickly and running thru door- 
way, with triping step — Gene ! Gene ! It's Gene ! 

Gene (entering, with arm around Rachel) — 
Honey, what was that I heard you singing? 

Rachel — A new love waltz song; listen (plays 
and sings song while Gene hums). 

Gene — Play it again, dear. It is beautiful. 
(They sing. Chorus: Rachel rises and they 
waltz, singing.) 

(After dance they snuggle up on sofa; 
lights gradualy go out.) 

Rachel — Don't, Gene, mama might come in 
(soft calcium reveals Gene kissing Rachel). 

(Darkness.) 

(Mrs. Cohen steals softly onto the stage and 
turns on electric lamp. Rachel jumps hastily 
to ker feet.) 

Sarah — Good efening, Mr. Tryer. 

Gene (rising to his feet and bowing) — 
Dwyer, if you please, mam. Good evening. 



68 



Sarah — Rachel, you go oudt in der eading 
room. (Rachel obeys.) Isadore ! (calling loud- 

ly)- 

Isadore (in wings) — J ah. 

Sarah (motioning Gene to seat) — Sit down, 
Mr. Dwyer. 

(Isadore comes in and Gene rises to greet 
him.) 

Isadore — Goot efening, Mr. Dwyer; sit down 
(mxOtions Sarah out, who retires with a courtesy). 

(Isadore walks nervously up and down, 
rumpling his hair and breathing hard ; Gene 
leans cooly back and waits.) 

Isadore (st oping abruptly in front of Gene) 
— You vant to marry my Rachel, Mr. Dwyer? 

Gene (shortly) — That is my intention. 

Isadore (spreading out his hands) — Vel, und 
vhy dond you ask her father for her. 

Gene (off-handedly) — Oh, that's out of date. 

Isadore (sarcasticaly) — It isn't oudt of date 
to vant her fader's money. 

Gene (rising and drawing himself up proud- 
ly) — I can provide for my wife, sir. 

Isadore — Vel, dot iss all righd. 

(Scene is shoved partly to one side show- 
ing Rachel and her mother eagerly listening 
at door.) 



69 



Gene — Stil, Mr. Cohen, if you wish it, I wil 
now ask you for your daughter's hand in 
marriage. 

Isadore — Vel, I would rather my Rachel 
shouldt marry a Hebrew, but as she lofes you 
I gif in, mit a ver small concessions — you 
only haf to shange your names to Cohen. 

Gene ( indignantly ) — what ? 

Isadore (ofif-handedly)— Shust a liddle con- 
cessions — shange your names to Cohen. 

Gene (in a horrified undertone) — Change my 
name to Cohen! (To audience, sotto voice:) 
And my great-great-great-grandfather was the 
King of Dublin. 

(Draws back and doubles up his fist as 
tho to strike, then shakes his head and drops 
his arm.) 

(The women nervously grasp each other be- 
hind the scene.) 

Isadore — Vel, make id Mr. Cohen-Dwyer, I 
gif in mineself. 

Gene — No Cohen in it. Just plain Dwyer. 

Isadore (shruging shoulders, suavely) — Vel, 
all righd, only vun ting I shall insist on — my 
first grandson must shange his names to Isaac 



70 



Cohen, as vas mine grandfader, und I gif him 
a lots of munish. 

Gene — He wil be named Eugene Dvvyer, sir. 
That's flat. 

Isadore (excitedly) — Vhat? You von't mage 
any concessions (totters, grasps at air and 
falls). 

Gene (alarmed) — Rachel! Rachel! 

(Rachel and Mrs. Cohen come on with rush. 
Mrs. Cohen kneels and gathers Isadore's head 
in lap, wailing. Rachel rushes off, returns 
with basin of water and dashes it into her 
father's face.) 

Isadore (sputtering, half conscious) — Vel, 
name him Isaac Cohen Dwyer. I gif in. 

(Curtain.) 



The larger the purview the more need for 
extraordinary balance. 

' Is a human being who wil wear French 
heels capable of judging questions of policy 

sanely? 

71 



A BRASS FIXTURE 

Orator — The next time I feel like exercising 
my muscles I am, going to grab the leader of 
an orchestra, lay him out fiat on the iloor 
and take a runing jump right onto his face 
with my heels. 

Leader of Orchestra — You inhuman wretch. 

Or.— How ? 

Leader- -Do you mean to tel me that you 
would dare to lake one of my profession, place 
him in such a humiliating position and disable 
him from [)roviding in a proper manner for his 
w^ife and family? 

Or. — I dont get you. 

•Leader (excitedly) — Why, crush in his face 
and spoil — 

Or.-— Spoil nothing. They say rubber bounces 
fine oR brass. 



If socialists would liv up to their doctrines 
they would make a great many more converts. 
To note that the preacher of universal brother- 
hood is hoging everything he can seize surely 
doesn't help the cause. 



72 



Mrs. Murphy's 

Disappointment 

Dramatis Persona 

Will Murphy, just painter; later, contractor. 

Mrs. Murphy (Mame), wife of the "con- 
thractor." 

Tony Rocco (barber), native of Italy. 

Mrs. Rocco (Carmelita), New Yorker, wife 
of Tony. 

SCENE I 

(Courtyard surrounded by tenements; two 
washtubs on a bench ; Mrs. Murphy and Mrs. 
Rocco hard at work washing clothes ; Tony 
R.0CC0 seated on another bench, facing them, 
struming softly on a mandolin.) 

Carmelita — Was that your husband came 
home so late this morning, Mrs. Murphy? 

73 



Maine — No wonder you heard him ; he was 
soused with mixed ale — loaded up while play- 
ing ],)inochle over to Casey's. 

Tony- -Why him no getta da pint? 

Mame — He says it taste tinny out of the 
can. He likes scoops. 

Li ta- -Tony, when wil we. be ready for the 
sketch ? 

Tony — Stoppa chewa da rag — prac da steppa 
— getta da move Bil gotta da sketch write. 

Mame and Lita — All right (Scamper to front 
of stage and dance to Tony's accompaniment.) 

(Just as they are finishing dance, enter Will 
Murphy, half soused.) 

Mame (jumping at him) — What are you 
doing home at this hour in th eday, Will 
Murphy ? 

Will- -No more sky painting for mine ! I 
nearly fei off the ladder this morning. I dont 
Vv'ant to see him yet. 

Mame — See who? 

Will— The devil. 

Mame — If you keep sober you won't fall oft" 
the ladder. As for the devil, you'l see him very 
soon if you don't reform — you'l have the 
willies. 



74 



Will — I aint anxious. Say, Mame, I knew 
you were a creamy waltzer, but what kind of 
a whoop-'eni-up do you call that? 

Lita — That is the dance we do to make them 
take notice. 

Mam.e — That is your classy point for pub- 
licity. 

Lita — That gets the rapid news item. 

Tony — Draga da screama from da pape. 

Will — Oh! So we take the family along. 
I dont know about your going on the stage, 
Mame. You are too good looking. 

Mame — Look here. Will Murphy, if you 
think I am going to have you gading around 
the country drinking scoops Vv^ith those chorus 
fairies you've got another puzzle solution. 

Will — The chappies wil be there ! Oh, you 
Reno Special. 

Tony — Stoppa da fight. 

Mame — I am going to hav a new hat and 
pair of shoes this pay if you hav to go with- 
out anything to eat next week. 

Will (trying to look wise) — All right. 

Mame — And I ought to have a pair of stock- 
ing (pulls her skirt to her knees, showing big 
rent in her stocking just below the knee). Just 
look at that hole. 



75 



Will — The hat and shoes are all right, but 
the stockings, nit. I'm the only one sees the 
hole, and I aint kicking. 

Tony — Singa da song (softly commences 
refrain). 

Lita — Yes, we want lots of practice. 
(Will sings "No more for Mine.") 



NO MORE FOR MINE 

When I get over this horrible feeling, 
Never again ! Never again ! 

I wonder what's that funny shape a-stealing 

Across the walk ! Across the walk ! 
Great Casey,, am I getting the batsies ? 
Sure, Sure, I am, as stire as old hatsies. 
Oh, dear me, what a lot of queer ratsies ; 

Never again ! Never again ! 

No more for mine ! No more for mine ! 



76 



Chorus : 

Fil 'cm up again, Mike, fil 'em up, 
Fil 'em up again, Mike, fil 'em up ; 
Why afar do I thusly roam? 
Dont I think I'd better go home? 

Not on your Hfe! Not on your hfe! 

(Spoken— "Why?") 

My wife says I'm the bane of her hfe; 

Fil 'em up again, Mike, fil 'em up, 
Pll 'em up again, Mike, fil 'em up! 

When I get away from this mixed ale reeling, 

Never again ! Never again ! 
I wonder how's the sober way for feeling? 

Look over there ! Look over there ! 
Oh ! great stars, am I getting the willies ? 
No, no, no, you set of old sillies ; 
I wonder if those goats are all billies? 

Never again ! Never again ! 

No more for mine ! No more for mine ! 

Chorus. 

17 



(Will starts toward alley passage to street, 
startling at every squeak of orchestra. Mrs. 
M. quietly moves to meet him.) 

Will (preparing himself to make a quick 

dash thru the passage) — So long I'm going 
out for a w^hile. 

Mame (jumping and grabing him) — No 
Casey's for yours. 

(Leads him meekly into the house, orchestra 
playing vi^eding march. Mrs. R. seats herself 
by Tony in real Italian wife style. Tony 
softly plays mandolin. Slow curtain.) 



78 



SCENE II 

(Lawn of Contractor Murphy's country 

S'.eat. Stonecliff Manor, Mrs. Murphy walking 

around ; Will seated. Both in swel summer 
attire.) 

Will — Gee ! Just one of Casey's scoops would 
hit me now. Bottle beer ! Rotten ! 

Mame — Will Murphy, if you want to make a 
beast of yourself, do it as a gentleman. Casey's ! 
Pinochle ! Scoops ! The idea ! There is plenty 
of wine in the house. It wil giv you just as 
disgraceful an appearance as mixed ale. I wish 
you to forget your Mulberry Bend origin. 

Will — Mulberry Bend aint so bad. They 
havent as much varnish on down there, but 
there is more sound oak underneath. 

Mame (sneeringly) — Some more of your 
Coney Island witticisms. 

Will — Aw ! I'm tired of this place, any way 
you look at it. 

Mame — Will Murphy, I feel like giving you 
up ; here you are, rich and growing richer, and 
nothing suits you. 



79 



Will — We have prospered pretty wel finan- 
cially, but I dont see why you insist on living 
up in this dreary hole. 

Alame — What is the trouble with it XOW\ 
Mr. Murphy? 

Will (airily) — Murphay, if you plaze. Wei, 
Mrs. Murphay, Tony and Lita hav made just 
as much off our vaudeville ventures as we hav. 
Tony has his in apartm.ents right where we 
used to liv, piling up more money for him. 
We, to please your tony notions, have this 
white elephant to feed. I aint kicking so much 
on the joint in the Summer time, but in the 
Winter ! 

Mame (angrily) — The whole trouble with you 
is that you can't spend all your spare time in 
Casey's low grogshop. The idea of prefering 
Mulberry Bend to Stonecliff Manor! 

Will — It's good enough for Tony and Lita, 
and they are richer than we are. Tony comes 
of better stock than we do. His father is an 
Italian nobleman. 

Mame (sneeringly) — That's what he says. 
Funny he should hav been a barber if he had 
so much brains. 



80 



Will — \ou know what a fine musician he 
is. His music is the rage all over the country. 

Marne (with pride) — So are your sayings. 
Dont allow a Wop to get more credit than 
an Irislimaa. 

Will — Cut it. Here comes — 

(Enter Tony [mandolin case in hand] and 
Carmelita [with baby in arms] skiping.) 

Will — Hello, Tony and Lita. How's little 
Tony? (Lita holds up baby for 'all to see. 
Mame kisses Lita and baby and they draw to 
one side.) 

Tony — Fina place, Will. 

Will — Fine, but it's too far from the Bend. 
Wine and case goods. Makes me sick. 

Tony (with shrug) — Wine vera fine. 

Will — Mixed ale for mine, and they can't 
come too big. 

Mame — Do you feel strong enough yet for 
our nev/ venture, Lita? 

Lita — Strong enough? Us Italians dont 
make any fuss about having children. 

Will (winking) — Nor us Irish when we make 
up our minds. (Aside to Tony:) Mame has 
been live years now trying to make up her 
mind. I'm half inclined to think she has 
suffraget leanings. 



81 



Mame — Sh ! There might be some here. I 
dont want a hatchet bounced off my man 
disturber. Besides, lots of the suffragets hav 
children. 

Lita — Not after it takes wel. 

Tony (opening case and taking out mandolin) 
Lita, singa Will's lullaby. 

Lita skips to footlights, huging baby, and 
sings : 



I DONT WANT A VOTE 

A mother of a baby boy, 

My heart is bubbling o'er with joy 

As to my breast I closely press 

His being, with a rare caress; 

No suffragetic manly craze 

Can lure my soul's enthused amaze 

To even giv a moment's thought 

Away from him my flesh hath wrought. 



82 



Chorus : 

Hush a bye, my darling son, 
While the hours swiftly run, 
Cuddle closely to my breast, 
Baby, dear, in downy nest. 
Sleep, my precious baby, sleep, 
Mother's heart wil vigil keep, 
Naut can harm you, dearest, best, 
While I guard your peaceful rest. 



Great God, to him grant wisdom rare, 
So he'l escape the carping care 
That comes with bitter battling foes 
Aheaping up poor mortal woes. 
Until poor sinners seek the bowls 
That drive to hel poor mortal souls, 
And keep his ways from women's wiles. 
From snares of suffrage tic smiles. 

Chorus : 

(Crowd of suffragets jump from their seats 
and swarm onto the stage, screaming ''Votes 
for women," driving the performers off.) 



83 



OH, YOU BROOKLYN ! 

Orator — When I carne from Pittsburg the 
the other day and got out of the train in that 
grand dapo uptown and strolled thru and en to 
the street, the sights caused me to say: "Wei, 
some excitement !" 

Needing a new suit, I inquired the way to 
a first-class shop and doned a. real uptothefit 
cover. 

Then I roamed dov/ntown and gazed up at 
some of your sky parlors. 

I didnt note, but I'l gamble my mouth was 
wide open. 

1 had expressed my trunk and suitcase to my 
aunt in ISrooklyn, so when I became surfeited 
with sight seeing I inquired the way to the 
Brooklyn train. 

The B. R. T. brought m eto Brooklyn. 

(Turns and starts to walk off.) 

Man m Audience — Heigh! Come back here. 

Orator (turning and coming slowly back) 
- What's the miatter ? I hain't dun nawtliun. 



84 



Man — Where's the parcel. 
Orator — The parcel ? 
Man- -Yes — the joke. 

Orator — It's on me. In fact, on everyone 
traveling that way, except Brooklynites. If I 
hav it to do over again I'l swim or take the 

ferryboat. 



THE DAIRY DISCLOSURE 

Soubrei '/very low-cut dress) — Hello; are you 
our angel ? 

Angel — Sure; why? 

Sou.- — You look nice. 

Angel — Say, what kind of a dress do you 
call that? 

Sou. (with giggle) — This? My low-cut. 

Angel — Dont you think it's dangerous ? 
Sou. — How? 

Angel -Why, unmasking your dairy battery 

so recklessiv. 



85 



A WILING VICTIM 

Angel — Oh, you Sukey! 

Soubret (very low cut dress and silt skirt 
showing leg to knee) — How do you do? 

Angel — Charming, in your presence. 

Sou. — Oh, you dear old cut-up! 

Angel — But I am so afraid you wil catch 
cold. 

Sou. — How ? 

Angel — With that awful rent in your dress. 
Why dont you have it sewed up? It's a shame 
to ruin such a lovely gown. 



86 



Sou. — (pertly) — The oFur Hundred affect 
this style, so why should I refuse to be upto- 
date ? 

So, Angel, dear, dont think I'm bold, 
Nor do I think I'll catch a cold. 

Angel — Oh, you poetess! 

Sou. (roguishly) — If you fear for my wel- 
fare, a good, hot dinner wil drive away any 
cold flirting around. 

Angel (grabing her arm with mock expression 
of dismay) — Stung! 

Sou. — It's sweet of you to tel me. 



87 



UP-TO-DATE? OH, NO! 

Orator— I tel you, it's great in these suffraget 
tijiies to hav a wife like mine. She wouldnt 
wear a lo\y-cut dress or a slit skirt. Why? 
(J:i\vcls out his chest and looks important.) Be- 
cause she knows I object to such rowdy attire. 

J3utler (entering and handing him a bil — 
Mrs. Orator totld me to giv this to you, sir. 
( Bows and retires.) 

Orator (opening envelope and reading — To 
one slit skirt for Mrs. Orator, $25. (Tears 
his hair in dismay.) 



88 



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